#and like not only do I No Longer Have To Go To Sydney. not only is it free delivery but it is so fucking tasty

[juliareed]

There is a lighthouse In the middle of the deep And I'm still stranded on the shoreline there And nobody hears me scream

[femfury]

turned to god and he rewarded me with sugar cane juice

[bweeeb]

WILDFLOWER

Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Angst

Notes: I started watching the third season of The Bear and my love for Carmen returned.

Summary: When Carmen compares Y/n to Claire on a stressful day, he almost ruins everything with the woman in his life.

Carmen Berzatto was never a kid with many friends. In fact, he didn't have any for a big part of his life, until you came along. The principal and teachers thought you were too advanced for your grade and bumped you up a year, where Carmen was. Berzatto never imagined a girl as pretty as you would be his friend. He thought you’d hang out with Claire or the cool kids, but no, you obviously became friends with everyone, especially Claire, but mostly with him. It was you and Carmen. After school ended, your friendship lasted six years until he moved to New York and came back when Michael committed suicide. At first, things started off well again. You worked in your family’s marketing business, filming and promoting restaurants with creative and interesting videos. Carmen needed you to promote The Bear. You two started getting close again. Suddenly, you were helping him late at the restaurant, joining him and the crew for family meals, and then he asked you out, thanks to Richie pushing him to do it, and that’s how you got to where you are now. Maybe it was a bit early, but after a few long months, your lease ended, and without thinking much about it, you ended up moving in with Carmen. He was always working, so you didn’t get in his way, and he didn’t get in the way of your editing work. You didn’t have much to complain about. Every night, Carmen would come home, you two would shower together, helping him relax, and fall asleep watching something. Until it wasn’t like that anymore. You were always a clingy person since childhood. Your parents told you that, but never in a bad way. You always thought it was okay to show love through touch and words of affirmation, until Carmen seemed bothered by it. He started showering alone, saying he’d be with you soon. He’d let go of your hand on the couch and sit farther away than usual. The messages you used to send, which he said he loved because they relaxed his mind when the restaurant was chaotic, he no longer seemed to appreciate. You tried to make sure he was okay with all your emotions before starting a relationship, and Carmen assured you he was, even saying your touch calmed him and he’d never felt that way with Claire. Claire was never a tough subject between you two, but it was inevitable for you not to feel a pang of jealousy knowing Carmen sought her out before you.

It was almost eight in the morning, and that morning Carmen had left in a rush after oversleeping. While you were organizing things at home, his chef's coat appeared in front of you, and without much doubt, you realized he had left without it, which was almost unacceptable. You grabbed the coat and drove to the restaurant, not knowing that Carmen was having a bad day and taking it out on everyone in the kitchen. Entering through the back doors, your eyes widened at the commotion coming from the kitchen. You passed Marcus, who smiled and raised his eyebrows at you.— You need to calm your man down. He said, handing you a small bag and letting you pass. Walking through the kitchen, you passed by Sydney, who shook her head in disapproval, with Richie right behind her, clapping his hands.

— S/n, the cousin's losing it. If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there, but I think you’re our only hope.

Richie said, hugging you tight and lifting your feet off the ground, causing you to let out a low laugh that made Carmen look out of his office, seeing you in Richie’s arms. Carmen's neck vein popped out for no reason, feeling jealous of your friendship with Richie, which had never happened in the fourteen years of friendship. Now, his already bad day seemed worse. Carmen, without thinking, walked over to you both, and as Richie let go of you, he grabbed his coat from your hand roughly, turned his back, and ran his fingers through his oily hair that hadn’t been washed properly, unlike when you washed it. Yesterday, he had skipped your shower together. — Maybe a thank you would be great. You said, following him through the kitchen with Richie behind you like a loyal puppy.

— She brought it for you, cousin.

— Yeah, big deal. He muttered, and you stopped in your tracks, tensing at his harsh tone.

— Leave this to me, Richie, thanks. You turned to the older man, who nodded and stepped away, ensuring that if you called for help, he’d come running.

You slowly approached Carmen, who was at the counter cutting vegetables, and leaned on one arm to look at him. — Hey, babe, what’s wrong?

Your soft, calm voice, which usually soothed Carmen, made him swallow hard in irritation.

When you got no response or even a glance, your smile fell into a disappointed sigh. — Are you okay?

— Yeah, I’m fine, Y/n. Another robotic response.

— Okay, are you mad because you woke up late?

— Your hair’s gonna fall into the ingredients. His voice raised rudely, and you widened your eyes, taking a hair clip from your bag strap and tying your hair up. — There, better? Your voice stayed calm and low, not letting the others in the kitchen hear what you were saying, always the opposite of Carmen in bad moments. — Can you at least look at me when you talk to me, please?

You asked, and the knife in Carmen’s hand stopped. His fiery gaze landed on you, and you didn’t know if you’d ever felt such a strong urge to cry from a look before. — I don’t wanna talk to you, Y/n. I didn’t ask you to come here. Carmen’s harsh words escaped, and you frowned. You knew he hadn’t called you, but you knew him well enough to know he was freaking out about not having a coat.

— Excuse me? Why are you acting like a child? I know you didn’t call me here, you jerk, but all your coats were at home, and I brought one for you.

— I don’t care what you say. I don’t want you here. Didn’t you notice that? I don’t even know if I want you in my bed anymore. Carmen’s words gradually softened until his last words came out as a confession that made your eyes fill with tears. — Stop being so clingy, for fuck’s sake. Claire was never like that. Carmen exploded, causing the kitchen to fall into an awkward silence.

— Well, maybe you should call Claire then, Carmen. You said, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest. And you couldn’t stop thinking that Claire had always been the center of Carmen’s attention as teenagers, why wouldn’t she be now?

— Maybe I will, maybe I’ll call her and say my annoying girlfriend is being a pain in the ass at my fucking job. At least Claire didn’t stick to me like glue when I got home and knew how to respect my space. She did something useful at work, for fuck’s sake. Carmen yelled, and your throat formed a huge lump, knowing you’d either cry like a baby in front of him or outside, and you preferred to do it away from his eyes.

— Go fuck yourself, Carmen. You said, turning your back on your boyfriend, refusing to look at him with tear-filled eyes again. Walking through the kitchen, Richie came up to you with wide eyes, stopping you midway, but you just pushed him aside, making him run to Carmen with his hands on his head.

— What the FUCK did you just do, cousin? FUCK. That woman is the love of your life, damn it. Look at what you just said to her, you idiot. Richie yelled in Carmen’s face, who looked at his friend with his hands on his face as regret hit him. It was like while he was saying all those nasty things to the girl he loved most, his mind was clouded with adrenaline and anger, not at her, but at the pressure he was feeling that ended up being dumped on her. Running out of the restaurant, trying to catch up with you, but it was too late, and you had already disappeared.

When night came, Carmen walked into the house, and immediately when the emptiness greeted him, his chest felt heavy with regret again. There were no warm kisses, whispered caresses in his oily curls from spending all day at the restaurant, and no you, tiny and eager to try the food he’d brought for you to taste. He approached your shared bedroom and saw you curled up under the covers, hugging a pillow that used to be him. You never slept before he got home, and immediately, the fear of losing you hit Carmen, who got in the shower and felt his tears fall as he thought about how stupid he’d been to treat the person who made him feel safe and good after Michael left so badly.

After he got out of the shower, Carmen knelt by your side of the bed and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, making you stir briefly and open your eyes quickly. Your usually bright eyes were red from crying so much, and it was impossible for Carmen not to notice. In a leap, you pulled away from his touch and sat up in bed, avoiding his gaze.

— I brought food for you. Carmen said, and you just shook your head, lying back down, unable to really sleep again.

— I’m not hungry, thanks. You murmured weakly, and Carmen wanted to slap himself for treating his sweet girl so badly. Even after hurting you, you thanked him when he couldn’t even properly apologize.

— I… I’m sorry, sweetheart. Carmen said, looking at your back and only receiving a nod. You knew your voice would crack from the tears starting to fall again, and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry anymore. Carmen's heart sank at your lack of response, feeling the weight of his words crushing him. — I didn't mean it, any of it. I was just... I'm an idiot, and I took everything out on you. You didn't deserve that. You never do.

He whispered, his voice trembling with genuine regret. You stayed silent, trying to process his words. You wanted to forgive him, but the pain was still fresh. — Please, look at me, Y/n. I can't stand seeing you like this.

Carmen pleaded, his hand reaching out to touch you again, but stopping midway, unsure if it was welcome.

— Do you know how much it hurts to hear that from the person you love the most? You finally spoke, your voice breaking, making Carmen wince at the raw emotion in your words.

— I know, and I'm so, so sorry. I don't know how to make it right, but I'll do anything. Just don't leave me, please. Carmen's desperation was evident, and you slowly turned to face him, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looked so broken.

— I just need you to be honest with me. If you need space, say it. If something's wrong, tell me...— You stopped for a second, apprehensive — Can I ask you something? Do you see her in the back of your mind all the time wishing I were her? You asked, sniffling, and immediately Carmen shook his head. — Because I see her, and I can't keep on someone's place.

— Claire and I didn't work out because she couldn't stand me, and I couldn't stand her. You're the reason I wake up every day, knowing I'm going to come back from the restaurant to here and you'll be here is what makes me want to keep going, Y/n. Claire didn't do that, she never did. I'm sorry. He whispered pulling you into his arms in a hug. — I love you, Y/n. I'm sorry for making you doubt that.

— I love you too, Carmy. But I swear if you make me feel this shit again, I'll leave you forever, that's your only chance to do the right things, Carmen

— I promise. I'll be better. I don't ever want to lose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. He confessed, his eyes filled with tears. You sighed. and Carmen hugged you tighter as he mumbled several apologies in a row.

— Can we take a nap now, please? I can't sleep without you.

— But what about the restaurant?

— They can handle lunch without me. He said, picking you up and carrying you to the neatly made bed.

[jupitersdescendant]

hello guys, i hope everyone is doing as good as possible!

todays topic: a prominent spirit guide in your life

close your eyes and let your intuition guide you while choosing a pile. you could feel drawn to more than one. only take what resonates. this is meant for entertainment purposes only.

art by Sydney Lawrence

Pile 1

💠about your guide💠

cards: butterfly (rx), elf, four of pentacles, king of pentacles (rx)

hi guys, so you’re guide has a difficult time getting through to you or to connect with you. they seem a little frustrated because of that. the have a more masculine energy to them. because the earth element is very present here i think, that even through their frustration they remain patient and grounded when it comes to you. they’re mainly here to spark a transformation in you and guide you through change but it does seem like you aren’t a hundred percent ready for their presence yet. the colours orange and red are prominent here, they want to light that fire inside you and inspire you. they also want to challenge you. they haven’t reached their full power hence their full impact on your life yet since you’re struggling to let them in. if you do though, you’ll feel their presence and their impact on your life strongly. when prominent, they aren’t easy to miss. they also seem a little stubborn so they’ll wait for you as long as it takes and will remain persistent.

💠messages from them💠

cards: emperor (rx), two of pentacles (rx), ten of swords

i think you carry some unhealthy masculine energy in you (mind you this has nothing to do with gender) which is really interesting and also makes a lot of sense as to why your spirit guide carries a more masculine energy themselves. they’re here to teach you how to use and embrace it in a natural and healthy way. you could very well struggle with an „my way are the highway“ attitude and refuse to budge. they want to teach you how to listen and think about how your actions might affect others. you have the choice, the power to decide how you’re gonna move forward. are you ready to let go of these negative patterns in your behaviour? they may seem more comfortable than facing yourself and the inevitable change but are they going to benefit you in the long run? its okay to be scared and insecure but that’s why your spirit guide is here. they`ll help you through your ego death because that is what you’re going to face. just know: if you succeed, those destructive thoughts and patterns will no longer hold you hostage. this cycle will finally be over and will lead to the new emergence of your soul, possibilities and a new narrative. the number four as well as animals with horns could be direct signs and symbols sent by them to you.

hope it resonates, stay safe!! 🖤

Pile 2

💠about your guide💠

cards: bat (rx), kraken (rx), nine of wans (rx), six of wands (rx),

hello pile 2! your guide has a very dark energy to them but that doesn’t mean they’re bad or anything like that. they seem to prefer the dark so maybe they’re most prominent after sundown and could appear in your dreams as well. they’re very attached to you and very protective. their energy feels very brooding but also fiery. the colours black, dark pink and red are most representing for them. their presence in your life is here because they want to help you to let go of the past. you seem to be clinging to what you know and what brings you a false sense of comfort and they’re here to help you through that. since you seem very afraid you’re blocking them out a lot. this could be another reason they mainly try to reach you at night/through your dreams. they have an adventurous personality and want to spark this within in you too. they’re not afraid to wander into the unknown,and rather thrive in it actually. with them by your side you’re urged to embrace fearlessness and to let go of what no longer serves you. rainbows are coming through as well, this represents what is waiting for you when you decide to trust and follow them into the uncertain. if some of you believe in gods or even deities, your guide could also function as some kind of messenger.

💠messages from them💠

cards: ace of pentacles (rx), queen of cups (rx), eight of wands (rx)

wow so just as before all your cards came out in reverse which isn’t necessarily a bad thing though in your case it’s not a good one. the three cards i pulled also flipped out all at once, couldn’t even really shuffle once. your guide is really desperate to talk to you and get their message across. dear people, i`m really not judging but by god you’re blocking yourself and your growth so damn hard and it truly leaves me a little speechless. man, i feel for your guide. you refuse to allow something natural and new to emerge. probably ignoring signs and omens as well. there’s basically this gateway of your desires and wishes waiting for you but you’re walking the other way. what hurts most to see though is how unhappy you actually are in your current situation and like i`m just the messenger, for your guide it must be brutal to watch. you seem to have some harsh emotional wounds. it looks like you think and feel like in order to „get rid of them“ you can’t move on to something completely alien to you but moving on and out of this energy is the only way to truly heal. not taking action is still an action. reflect and think: what holds you back? what action can you take? what intentions can you set right now? your guide also wants you to remember: what you put out into the world will return to you. i know this was probably hard to read but your guide really means well. you’re not alone, they’re just waiting for you to take and accept their hand and lead you through that magical gate with endless possibilities on the other side.

hope it resonates, stay safe!! 🖤

Pile 3

💠about your guide💠

cards: earthworm (rx), phoenix, three of wands (rx), five of cups

hello pile three! your guide is very careful in their way of connecting to you as they don’t want to overwhelm you. they have a very bright and colourful energy to them and seem to be very pleased by you. they’ve been by your side for a while and helped you through the hard times you recently had to face. many of you have dealt with a great loss and are still grieving. know that they grieve with you and that they try to give you as much comfort as possible. they care about you a lot. they don’t want to push or pressure you too much but they’re still a little impatient since they can’t wait to see you really flourish. your spirit is here to guide your through your big transformation, they aren’t represented by the phoenix for nothing. they have this special and all consuming spark to them that’ll infect everyone they’re connected to. their energy and influence are revitalising. it could be possible for you to see this spark reflect in your own eyes. they of course feel and share your anxiety of what’s to come but its more so out of excitement. they’re still very sure of themselves, as well as of you of course. accepting your past, then letting go and preparing your for your new set is their main purpose.

💠messages from them💠

cards: the sun, ace of wands (rx), four of pentacles

you’re still unsure of how to embrace this transformation. well, get comfortable darling because the universe has your back. the time to doubt yourself was yesterday, step into and embrace the confidence that waits to be unlocked. it might take some time to fully get used to this and its alright to be overwhelmed at times. your guide wants you to know that you have nothing to fear, nothing to hide. you’re unfolding who you are and what you’re capable of. growth and expansion are in store for you. you’ll see and experience your hearts desires unfolding. you’ll shine in the center of your universe. they’re saying that an eternal sun will warm you, obviously more so in a spiritual sense. they also want you to accept the help of others and to allow them to provide for you when you need it. always remember: what you need is at hand and even if you should lose sight of it, the universe is conspiring to help you. they’re also saying well done ;)

hope it resonates, stay safe!! 🖤

[becsabillion4]

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

[meazalykov]

scenes of envy

sydney lohmann x actress!reader

summary: seeing you so affectionate with someone else doesn't sit right with sydney, even if it really wasn't you.

you’re sitting on the hotel bed in new york, flipping through your script for the latest press interviews when your phone buzzes with a message from sydney. 

you smile and open it, expecting her usual sweet texts about how she misses you. but instead, it’s short:

just watched the new episode with laura. great job, babe.

the words seem normal enough, but you can feel something underneath them, something unsaid. you can almost picture her sitting there, awkwardly watching that make-out scene between your character, dina, and your costar‘s character, ellie. 

you can guess how she might have shifted uncomfortably, maybe biting her lip while laura sat beside her, completely engrossed in the show.

you quickly type back, 

thanks, liebe! only two weeks until i’m back in munich ❤️ i miss you.

as the night goes on and you think back to her message, the subtle weirdness of it lingers. sydney knows what your job entails. she knew it before the two of you even got serious, that being with an actress meant dealing with things like this—intimate scenes that are just part of the job. 

still, there’s that lingering feeling of jealousy in her text, and you know it’s probably bothering her more than she lets on.

when you finally get back to munich, sydney is waiting at the airport with her usual bright smile, but you can tell something’s on her mind. 

she pulls you into a tight hug, holding on a little longer than usual, as if grounding herself in your presence after weeks apart.

later, the two of you are sitting in your shared apartment, catching up over a quiet dinner when sydney glances at you, her eyes dancing with something playful but still a little vulnerable.

“so… dina and ellie, huh?” she says with a teasing smirk, but the edge in her voice makes you pause. 

“you’re really good at pretending to make out with someone.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes as you set down your fork. 

“pretending, babe. it’s all just pretend. you know that.”

she leans back in her chair, the smirk fading as she looks down at her plate. 

“i know. i do. i mean, i signed up for this when i started dating an actress,” she says, her voice a little softer now. 

“but it’s still weird seeing you with someone else like that, even if it’s just acting.”

you stand up, walking over to her and taking her hand. she looks up at you with that slight hint of jealousy in her eyes. 

“syd, it’s not real,” you say, your thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“i don’t even talk to her outside of work, except for scenes with the show. you’re the only one i care about. you know that.”

she squeezes your hand, but you can tell the reassurance helps only a little. jealousy isn’t always rational, but you’ve been away for a while, and you get it. 

“yeah, i know,” she says with a small smile. “it’s just…laura was so into it, and i was sitting there like, ‘y/n’s kissing someone else on my tv right now.’ it’s weird, okay?”

you laugh softly and lean down, kissing her cheek. 

“you’re cute when you’re jealous, you know that?”

“i’m not jealous,” she mutters, but the blush creeping up her cheeks says otherwise.

you grin, wrapping your arms around her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder. “i love you, sydney. you, not my costar, not anyone else. just you.”

"besides, 90% of the time we aren't really doing anything. there are choreographers that teach us how to film intimate scenes without actually being intimate at all."

finally, she turns her head, giving you a proper smile, and you know she believes you. it’s not easy being apart for so long, and you know the show adds some complications. 

at the end of the day, it’s always been the two of you, and that’s never going to change.

masterlist

[garlicisgodsbestinvention]

perfect dimensions

(Carmy x Designer!Reader)

Summary: The Bear is weeks from opening, and Sugar hires an interior designer to bring the vision to life. Part 1/3.

Warnings: cursing, WILL contain smut later 👀NO use of Y/N because this is the 21st century. Carmy x female!reader, reader is described as having longer hair but that’s it for physical descriptions. NOT EDITED because I’m lazy girl tehe

—————————MINORS DNI——————————

“I hired a designer,” Natalie tells them in passing on Thursday, waving a vague hand when both Syd and Carmy open their mouthes to ask, “She’ll be here in like, twenty minutes.”

“Okay, heard, but we already have a design,” Carmy says, gesturing to the wall covered in layouts.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had a degree in architecture and engineering. Those are fake dimensions, Bear; we don’t know shit about anything, so someone is going to come in and make sure that we’ve got the right fucking shade of white!” Natalie shouts before the office door slams shut, leaving Syd and Camry to stare after her with equal confusion.

“Pregnancy is making her…” Syd starts to say.

“Mean?”

“Yeah, mean. Definitely a little mean,” Sydney sighs, “She’s right though. Vibe doesn’t get us to opening night.”

And that’s how Carmen finds himself stuttering through an introduction from a now much-more-pleasant Natalie when she shows a woman through the front doors.

Carmen extends his hand to you, clearing his throat, nodding like a fucking idiot when you tell him your name.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m uh, I’m Carmen.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth spreading into a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster. “Walk me through?”

Natalie takes the lead while Carmy and Syd hang back. One glance at the look on his partner’s face should have sent Carmy scrambling for something else to do, but he’s not fast enough to remove himself from her presence before a laugh is bubbling from between her closed lips and he’s desperately hoping his face isn’t turning red.

“Im, uh, Carmen,” Syd lowers her voice in a mocking tone.

“Fuck right off,” Carmy shakes his head at her.

“You literally forgot your name!”

“I didn’t forget my fuckin’ name—“

“Like oh my god, a pretty girl with pretty eyes appears and you forget how to talk!”

“Are you done?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t wait for Richie to meet her.”

Carmen wishes the day would never come.

Ten minutes later you appear back in the dining room, Fak following close behind with a shit-eating grin that makes Carmy wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning.

“Carmy! Did you know she likes to bake?”

“No, Fak, we’ve only just met. Would you let her do her job?” Carmen sighs, rubbing his fingers into his eyes to stop an oncoming headache. Syd snorts.

“We’ll chat more later, Neil, I promise,” you say.

“You might have just made yourself a new best friend,” Syd laughs.

Carmy looks away the moment your eyes swivel over to his, trying to disguise that he’s staring as best he can.

“So,” you say, “Natalie said you had drawings. May I see?”

Camry’s fingers itch in a weird way, but he manages a nod before striding over to his backpack to pull out the notebook while you scan the wall of swatches and inspiration photos. You nods your head a little, like you’re concocting an idea.

Carmy wants to twirl a finger through the strand of hair hanging loose out of your updo.

“So, uh, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

He then spends the next ten minutes walking you through each of the drawings, explaining himself a little too thoroughly, and making random comments about lighting and booth fabric. You look intent the whole time, brow furrowed at the page, occasionally pointing and you don’t even have to say anything—Carmy just starts to over explain immediately following the point of your painted fingernail.

When he’s done, you nod your head slowly, the corner of your mouth twitching up. You’re wearing some sort of lipstick that reminds Carmy of the stain of touching a cherry pit.

“These are amazing,” you say finally, and Carmy feels his face heat. “I like the vibe. I love the vibe, actually. Are you a sensitive person?”

You look up at him and Carmy short-circuits.

Syd says yes, at the exact time he says no.

“Conflicting signals,” you say, “Anyone else to weigh in?”

It takes a second for him to realize that you’re making a joke, and he has to shake himself out of a stupor caused completely by the sight of your smile.

“Uh, no, no I’m good. Gimme feedback,” he says, and you reach out to flip the pages back, landing on the entry.

“Great. I’m going to tell you what we need to fix,” you say, straight to the point. “This entry is too small. Either we need to extend out into the sidewalk, or we need to push the kitchen back by at least five or six feet. The bar is going to create a bottleneck right here, and we need to inset these shelves to give you a little more working room. The lighting here needs to be sconces, and the bathroom doors need to slide to maximize space—this is too small for a swinging door.”

Carmen is fully intent on taking in every word you’re saying, but out of the corner of his eye he can’t help but see Syd’s face transform into something mildly resembling devious.

“Heard,” Carmy says, nodding his head as you looks back up. “Let’s rock.”

——————————————————————————

You become a fixture in Carmy’s life in the same way that Sydney or Richie or Nat are, appearing every time he turns the corner and whispering a hello in passing before you start barking orders to the contractors who listen to your every word. Strangely, he can relate. A week ago you told him, Carmen, please decide which side of the bar you want the ice machine on, and do it quickly so I can tell the water guy when he gets here. He’s never made a decision so fast in his life.

Even Nat had popped an eyebrow when he replied, on it, before you’d even really finished your sentence.

Usually, he’s on autopilot—walking in and straight back to the office or the kitchen and hardly ever stopping to notice what’s going on. He’s the first one in and the last one out by design, so he doesn’t even see everyone else arrive until they’re already there.

This morning, though, Carmy walks into the kitchen to see you already there, writing something out in a notebook as Natalie talks, waving her hands wildly.

“Okay, I got you,” you’re saying only glancing up when Carmy’s shoes shuffle too loudly on the floor. “Oh! Good, you’re here. I need you.“

Carmy raises his eyebrows. “Need me?”

“To look at paint swatches,” you say, ushering him into the main dining area. The words ring in his head like bells as he follows you, the scent of your perfume surrounding him as he walks through the crowd of it. You smells so good, and it reminds him of New York City somehow, the faint scent of rain.

He figures that you must have come in even earlier than he and Natalie both, because you’re dressed more casually than usual, and there’s a charm necklace dangling over your tee shirt that he tries to identify when you turn without you realizing he’s staring. He makes out a paintbrush and nothing else.

“Right, so,” you start, gesturing to the wall. There’s a beat of silence with them both staring at the three swatches on the wall, and then Carmy turns towards you.

Your words overlap.

Carmy says, “I hate them.”

At the same moment, you say, “They’re horrible, right?”

Carmy laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, not it.”

“Okay, so hear me out.” You say, leaving his side to pull something from your folder. “Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Like, oyster shell pink. Neutral enough that in the low light it’ll look pale, almost indiscernible from white. And this wall—“ you point to the back where the booths will be and shake your head. “Has to be a mural. It’ll look unfinished if it’s bare.”

Carmy nods along with everything that you say, trying to envision it. “What kind of mural?”

You tilt your head, chewing at your lip. Carmy completely short-circuits for an embarrassingly long second.

“I might have some ideas,” you say in a soft voice, crossing over to the table where you’ve set your things and pulling out a black sketchbook.

“Two artists in residence, huh?” Carmy jokes, his stomach fluttering when you smile.

“Do you draw anything other than food and restaurant interiors?” You ask.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you repeat, looking up at him. He knows that you want him to elaborate—he would never admit out loud that he spends the hours he’s not cooking trying to replicate the way your necklace hangs off of your neck and the curve of your wrist.

Occasionally he doesn’t do weird, obsessive, borderline creepy things—sometimes he sketches the buildings outside his window as the sun goes down, or tries to remember what the boat in Copenhagen looked like, or that one place he used to drink coffee at in New York.

Your eyes narrow at him just a little, like you’re trying to read all the things he’s not saying.

He dips his head, half to look at the page you’ve opened the notebook to and half to get out from under the scrutiny of your pretty eyes.

“That’s insane,” Carmy finds himself saying, looking down at the waves of color on the page. “It looks like, almost like wood? Or marble. That’s—fuck, that’s so cool.”

The page is covered in shades of brown and deep green and black, melding together into something that reminds him of tree rings or stained wood panels, muted like an old chinoiserie river painting.

“You could hire someone to change it out seasonally maybe, it’d be cool, but I think something like this would look nice with the color of the wood we picked for the tables—“

“Will you do it?” Carmy asks, fingertips tracing over the edge of the paper and coming away brushed with color—oil pastels. “Could you, I mean, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it like this.” He tells you, rubbing the tips of his fingers together and watching the color meld together before meeting your eye.

Your mouth is parted, eyes wide as you look at him, and he gets the urge to flick your bottom lip to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I,” you start to say, “Yeah. I can do it. If you want me to.”

“I do,” he says, too quickly. “Want you to. Paint it.”

Because what else would he be asking you to do? He wants to throw his entire brain into the blender on high.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll start tomorrow.”

He makes a mental note to make sure he’s there all day to peer through the windows and watch you work.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You're An Idol And You're Revealing Your Relationship

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I’ve tried to get them all different which is why some take place on stage and others in other situations, Hope that’s okay love. 

CHAN:

Chan had somehow gotten it into his head that the best time and place for the two of you to reveal your relationship to the world would be at a concert in Sydney. He figured it would be a good place, the place he grew up in would be the first place to know all about his love for you. You'd even managed to make sure your schedules aligned and you could be alongside him when he did it all.

"So this is the part of the show where we get to talk to you all and let you know what's been going on in our lives," Chan spoke clearly into the microphone but anyone could see his hands were shaking a little. You knew he was nervous about this and who wouldn't be? You were practically biting your nails down to the bed.

"As you all know Yn and I have been friends for years, ever since I came to Korea..." Chan began to go on a whole speech about you, your whole body heating up as you listened to him compliment you in every way.

"There's something we need to tell you though...Yn and I are no longer friends." The crowd began to "awh" to him and the boys all smirked over at you behind the stage.

"We're together...Romantically." Chan added with a giant grin on his face, opening his arms for you to come out on stage and you froze for a second. Waiting for anyone to be booing but they all seemed to be cheering so you ran out there and smiled, hugging your boyfriend's chest.

MINHO:

It was only a matter of time before rumours of your relationship with Minho began to spread and you, and your team, had already prepared for it. Minho and you had released a song together a month back and now it was beginning to circulate that the two of you were in a relationship - which was true. The song had been your company's idea of soft-launching your relationship to the world, even the music video featured you and Minho doing a lot of couple-like things and everyone seemed to be reacting well to the news. Some even said they'd seen it at the start of your "friendship."

"You all know I released a song with Minho recently, and tonight we thought we'd give you a special performance!" You yelled out into the microphone, smiling brightly as people inside the arena cheered your name. Minho walked out onto the stage, smirking at you as he stood beside you.

"Before we start though, we have to let you in on a secret," Minho told them, winking at you before you both told them all you were in a relationship. None of them seemed surprised by the news but it was safe to say they were excited by the screams that they were letting out.

CHANGBIN:

Changbin was looking at you as he nervously bounced his leg up and down on the spot, it was obvious that the two of you were nervous about what you were going to do since it wasn't approved by either of your managers.

"You're sure about this?" You whispered to him, your relationship had already been rumoured since the start but this was going to be the first time either of you was going to be confirming it and live on air was a pretty insane way to do it.

"More than," He whispered back, squeezing your hand as the camera panned over to you both.

"Welcome back! We're joined by Changbin and Yn who are here to be interviewed about what it's like working in the same company in different settings," The cameras felt like they were suddenly burning a hole into your skull and you smiled warmly, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling inside of you. The interview started off easy, you were asked if there was much difference for you than Changbin since he was in a group and then you continued to talk about your scheduling.

"Is there anything else we should know?" Was the question you'd been slightly dreading but you looked at Changbin and both smirked,

"Well, dating in companies is usually forbidden but...You can't help where you find love." Changbin stated, gasps were heard from inside the studio and you didn't dare turn to look at your manager who was no doubt cursing you out.

"Are you confirming the rumours?!" The presenter seemed more excited than you and you nodded with a small laugh, the interview completely derailing and going on about the two of you.

HYUNJIN:

It was Hyunjin's first-ever solo interview and it was safe to say he was more than a little nervous, in fact, he was extremely nervous and not because of the interview. He'd done so many at this point that they were a walk in the park, all of them except this one. This was one different because it was going to be about him revealing his relationship with you. It was a fashion function he'd been invited along to which you happened to be performing at and you both decided to debut your relationship tonight.

"You look fantastic tonight, who dressed you?" Hyunjin began to explain his outfit in detail and did a small spin for the cameras who all began to take photos of him. 

"Is there anyone you're looking forward to seeing tonight?" Hyunjin looked over his shoulder at you, you were already heading inside of the venue and he turned back to the cameras.

"My partner, Yn, I cant wait to watch them perform live and show my love for them." He winks before the interviewer bombarded him with more questions about the two of you.

JISUNG:

Dispatch was getting ready to tell the world about their couple of the year and you knew it was you and Jisung, you'd been warned by JYPE and your managers that your relationship was going to be outed to the world and you'd both decided you were going to be at everyone to it.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight, I know you're all also excited to go home and learn about dispatch's new couple." You teased into the microphone, it was the end of your concert and you were getting antsy about what you needed to do.

"But I have some exciting news to share with you exclusively." You smiled warmly before some soft music began to play in the background.

"I've always wanted to be ahead of a big company like dispatch so, your couple reveal is..." A drumroll sounded before photographs of you and Jisung began to play on all of the big screens, one of your most romantic songs playing alongside it as people screamed out in surprise.

"Now you get the first look before anyone," You laughed a little as Jisung ran out onto the stage, engulfing you in a huge hug.

FELIX:

"What's the cheesiest pickup line you've ever heard?" The interviewer asked as you let out a small laugh thinking back on the one that Felix had said to you,

"You’ve got a lot of beautiful curves, but your smile is absolutely my favourite." You repeated it with a huge laugh, your whole body heating up as you remembered him suddenly telling it to you as he got out of the shower one night.

"Who told you that one?!" She laughed wildly as you shook your head at her, your eyes welling up with tears from how hard you were laughing.

"My boyfriend-" The whole world seemed to stand still as you realised what you'd just said and you could have sworn you were sweating buckets.

"Boyfriend? Is this a first hand-exclusive?" She wiggled her brows at you and you threw a glance over your manager who shook her head before nodding at you since there was no going back now and the interview turned into a whole questionnaire about your relationship.

SEUNGMIN:

It had been a silly fight that you and Seungmin had before he went out on stage earlier that night and you regretted it ever since, you were just a little fed up with hiding all of the time and you were worried it was going to be this way forever or that he ashamed of you or something.

"There's something I need to tell you all," Seungmin announced, the boys all staring at him confused. It was the end of the show and they were all getting ready to leave the stage.

"For a while, I've been keeping a huge secret and it's time I let it off my chest." Staff behind the stage began to yell at one another asking what he was doing and you stared at him with widened eyes.

"Yn and I have been together for a long time and I refuse to hide it anymore. I don't want them to think I'm ashamed when I love them more than anything else." He smiled brightly as people in the crowd began to "awe", your whole body was shaking as you stared at Seungmin who was gesturing for you to go onto the stage. 

"Yn and I are in love...I love them and they love me." He spoke as you took his hand in yours and smiled, hiding in his chest a little as flashes of cameras filled the arena.

"You're Crazy Kim Seungmin." You whispered as he stared down at you,

"Crazy about you."

JEONGIN:

It had all been an accident, a happy accident but an accident nonetheless. The boys were all on stage talking about their breaks and what they'd gotten up to on their small break from idol work and Jeongin talked about how he spent time with family and people he cared about. Only Jisung blurted out that he'd also been spending most of his time with you going out to different restaurants all over the country. It was something that maybe could have been swept under the rug and passed off as two friends spending time together if it hadn't been for Jisung also blabbering out that the two of you had been together for almost a year.

"You're a walking-talking idiot," Jeongin told him as you groaned at them coming over to you after the show had ended. By now the news had spread like wildfire and you knew there was no getting out of this one and your managers were going to have a field day with it.

"At least it's out in the world, neither of you has to worry about a giant reveal," Jisung offered a weak smile and you laughed softly, hugging him from the side.

"You can fight with my manager about it," You joked before shaking your head and congratulating the boys on a great show.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3

[nikkisheep]

To Be Alone With You (Part Six)

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!sister reader

Benedict Bridgerton x female!Sharma!sister reader

Warnings: improper alone time (Ben & reader), sexual tension, me as a writer questioning if I want Ben or Anthony to be the end ship, kissing, male nudity, reader fences Benedict (I know nothing about fencing so I'm sorry if this is bad), semi-smut, handjob, hair pulling

*One of the longer chapters

Summary: You spend more time with a certain Bridgerton brother and start to question whether you could be happy with Benedict rather than Anthony.

Playlist:

Labyrinth by Taylor Swift

If Only by Dove Cameron

Back to the Start by Somo

Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey (Maybe not a good choice, just depends)

Tag List: @shealuna , @m-rae23 , @littlepeanut03 , @aellabridgerton @sydney-m, @faatxma , @wildthoughtnananna @uraesthete, @themadhattersqueen, @theroyalmanatee, @urfavnoirette, @budugu, @helen06dreamer, @galactict3a, @imagineme2you. @sabii5, @anehkael, @aesthetic0cherryblossom, @lxovesgy, @lemonwithstupidity, @luvwithau, @stvrdustalexx, @jess4rush, @tallrock35, @msrawog

Not many nights had passed since the ball and you were being invited to the Bridgerton house by Daphne, or at least you thought. The days following the ball had been crazy as you were having numerous suitors calling on you because they thought the viscount had forgotten your sister and set his mind on you. Not that it was completely wrong, but you were not talking to Anthony and would not do so until the wedding which was to be in about a month. Not that you were keeping up for when you would have to walk down the aisle, not in a white dress.

Upon your arrival to the Bridgerton home, you were wandering around the house trying to find something interesting. You wandered to the garden and sat under a tree. The refreshing wind cooled you as the tree limbs were shading you away from the harsh sun. You close your eyes and listen to the sounds of nature. Soon, rushed footsteps and shouts had called your attention and you decided to follow it.

---

Benedict and Colin were fencing, and it looked like Colin was winning this match. Benedict was sweating in his fencing uniform and a bead of sweat slowly drips down the side of his face and disappears under his collar.

"Are you going to just stand there and stare or are you going to come over?" Benedict called out, snapping you out of the trance-like state you were in.

"How long have you boys been fencing?" You ask, shielding your eyes from the sun.

"About an hour," Colin smirked, watching you watch Benedict. "I actually have grown quiet tired."

"Would you like me to take over, Mr. Bridgerton?" You asked, hands folded together in front of your waist.

"Do they teach you girls how to fence during your lessons?"

"No, but I have seen my cousins do it."

"You are quiet aware that fencing is a man's sport, Miss Sharma," Benedict said, pushing you. He knew that you would see it as a challenge and it was, the results were exactly what he wanted.

"Rule number one, Mr. Bridgerton, do not underestimate a woman."

Colin mentions your clothing and you realized that it would be harder to move in your dress. You press your lips into a thin line before deciding to walk to the shed. Once inside, you look through the wardrobe inside, finding a pair of fencing clothes. You pull at the buttons of your dress, slipping out of the many layers, including your corset. Putting on the trousers felt odd but they were quite comfortable, more so than your corset.

Coming out of the shed, you walk to the boys again, pushing the leftover shirt into the trousers. You gave them a twirl and beamed brightly.

"Well, don't they fit lovely?" You smiled.

"Yes...yes they do," Benedict looked at the sky, not trying to hide that he couldn't look at you. Your shirt wasn't completely buttoned and Benedict was struggling not to look.

"Are you all right, brother?" Colin asked, a teasing grin creeping onto his face.

"I am quite well, you need not to worry about me brother."

You move closer to him and press you hand against his forehead and felt his temperature. Your breathes mixed in front of you, your chest was practically pressed against his. Benedict's first instinct was to lean in for a kiss, you were intoxicating to him, but as soon as he went to slightly move, he pulled away.

"Shall we return to fencing?" He spoke into the silent garden.

All while Colin was just sitting on the bench, watching the interaction between his brother and the love of his other brother's life.

---

Colin eventually leaves the garden because the heat nearly made him pass out. As you were fencing Benedict, he kept talking as a distraction, and it was working.

"Darling, are you prepared for the art lesson that I have planned for us?" He asked.

"Can't make it, Mr. Bridgerton," You said. "I have a tea party with Daphne. She sent me an invitation letter."

"That was me," He said, tapping you on your left side.

"Benedict, did you invite me here to teach me art or something else?"

The two of you stepped closer, leaving the fencing weapons on the ground. His hands came to rest on your hips, looking around the garden quickly before turning back to you.

"Did you or did you not come here for an art lesson and nothing more?" He asked, dipping his mouth to the underside of your jaw.

"I came here thinking that I would be having tea with your sister," You gasp when his teeth graze your skin. "Benedict, someone will see."

"Let them see," He said. "You should be mine."

Your head tips backwards as his mouth continues the assault on your neck. You let out a moan and he pulls away, placing his index finger over your mouth, making a shhh-ing sound.

"Quiet darling, do you want me to stop?"

You shook you head.

"Words or I will stop."

"I don't want you to stop, Mr. Bridgerton."

His mouth pressed against yours in a searing kiss, lips moving in sync and his hand moves down to your bottom. He walks you over to the bench that Colin had been sitting and he sat you down, bending down to kiss you, never wanting your lips to leave his. You pull back, pressing your hand against his chest and try to catch your breath.

"Stop...stop, we shouldn't do this," You whisper as his mouth chases yours. He is in a kneeling position and his hand is on your hips, covered by your trousers.

"We shouldn't, but we want to and who are we to deny our desires?" He pants.

"Benedict."

---

Making it to his art studio, you laugh at his rain soaked clothes. You were still in your fencing clothes and your dress was in Benedict's hands. You brace yourself against a table, smiling as your hair clung to your face and neck. You were breathtaking in Benedict's mind. How Anthony did not see how truly beautiful you were was beyond him.

"Shall we get to drawing?" He asked, breaking the silence in the cooler room.

"Yes," You said. "I was wondering if I could draw you?"

He nodded and moved to the couch. You shook your head, motioning him to come over to you.

"How do you want me?" He asked, smirking at the fact that you were watching him with such attentive eyes.

"I want you...right here," You moved him to the center of the room, right in front of the window that was lit up by the thunder and lightening from outside.

You moved to the couch to start sketching him, frowning because you could not get his figure right. You walked to him and looked up at him, your noses nearly touching.

"Does sketching me include you being so close to me?"

"I need your shirt off. I need you naked."

"Why?" He asked.

"So I can get a better view of how your body is shaped."

He slowly starts to unbutton his shirt and shrugged it off. Smirking when he noticed your hand instantly reached out to touch his toned chest. He grabbed your sketchbook out of your hands, placing it on the nearest table, and placed them on his warm body. Your mouth opened slightly at the feeling of him. He felt warm, sturdy, and perfect.

His hand was still on yours and he slowly moved it down his chest to his abs to his trousers. You gasped when he moved your hand lower.

"Do you feel what you have done to me?" He asks. "How crazy you have me feeling?"

You nod. Too dumbfounded to say anything.

He moves your hand back up and then completely off him. He takes the button of his trousers into his fingers and pops it out of the hole. He then slowly moves them down his strong, long legs. He then pulls down his underwear. His cock springs up and hits his stomach. He was big. You could tell that the genes in this family were extremely strong. You shook your head and grabbed your sketchbook, instantly drawing what you saw.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, his wet hair sticking to his skin. Water droplets were still falling from his head and dripping down his body. The lightening from outside lit up his entire body, making him look like a literal angel.

"This is exactly what I needed." You walked over to him once again, pressing your lips against his. His mouth opened to allow your tongue entrance, swallowing his moans of pleasure. You were doing that to him. You were making him needy for you. You were making him want you, he needed you.

You grip his leaking cock, slowly moving up and down, feeling the silky skin. He threw his head back in pleasure as your hand stroked him.

"Oh my..." He gasped.

"Is this what you need, Mr. Bridgerton?" You look up at him before grabbing his hair to pull him down to your level. "Is this what you need?"

"Y-Yes," He stutters as he tries to hold in his moans.

"Let me hear you, baby." Your hand starts to get more slick with his pre-cum as he gets closer and closer to his end. He starts to shake in your hands as you speed up your hand. He starts to curse and moans started to spill from his mouth.

"Oh fuck, darling," He moans out as he cums on your hand.

You kept pumping him as he shakes from his orgasm. You slowly come to a stop and look him straight in the eyes as you lick his cum off your hand and moan at the taste, eyes rolling back.

"Oh fuck..." He pants, hair sticking to his forehead.

"I love you," He whispers, you don't hear it and he quickly gathers himself up.

"How was your drawing?" He asked, once dressed. His hands were resting on your hips as he presses a quick kiss to your neck.

"I think I will need to finish it a different day."

[writinground2]

Bad Guy - Leah Williamson

Based on a request for more Angsty Leah

This ended up a lot different and longer than I expected it to. There is the potential for a part two if there is interest.

“Never have I ever, cheated on someone,” Ella spoke. 

The lionesses playing the drinking game with water at their team bonding night, everyone spread out in the small hotel room. The night had moved from card games and movies to the game of Never Have I Ever to get to know each other a little more. 

A few took bashful sips, admitting their previous infidelity, all looking guilty about their actions. Leah scoffed when she noticed Y/N does not take a sip. 

“Seems fitting this is a question you choose to lie about,” the blonde rolls her eyes. 

“I’m not lying,” Y/N mutters, keeping her head down, hoping someone else will continue the game and the attention would be taken off her. 

Leah opens her mouth to bite back, “whatever,” she sneers instead when Millie sharply elbows her in the side. 

The room sits in awkward silence for a moment, no one knowing what to say. Most wanted to ask more questions about the interaction, having never seen the either woman be anything but professional towards each other since their friendship had fallen apart only a few months ago. 

“Umm, never have I ever, broken a bone,” Jordan spoke up to end the tense silence. She knew it would draw the attention off Y/N, so many of the players wanting to compete with who had the coolest or worst injury story. 

Y/N played a few more rounds before quietly slipping out of the room. No one noticing until they hear the click of the door. 

“Time for bed!” Millie was quick to usher everyone out of her before anyone could question Leah about her tense interaction with Y/N. 

No one knew the cause of the fallout between the two friends. They had been friends since staring on the youth teams years ago, thick as thieves early on. Then, suddenly, Y/N was being sent on loan to Arsenal from Aston Villa and Leah wanted nothing to do with her best friend. Jordan and Rachel avoided Y/N their first international break after the loan, but seemed fine the next camp, both giving the older girl sympathetic looks. Leah would remain professional with her former best friend, but it was apparent something significant occurred within Y/N’s loan. 

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled as she almost walked into Leah as she walked out of the bathroom as Leah entered their shared room. Because of course they would be roomed together. Staff didn’t realize the tension in the friendship, leaving them paired as they normally were. 

“I bet you are,” her tone saturated with in sarcasm, “nothing but lies coming out of your mouth.”

“I never cheated Leah,” Y/N whispered, standing at the end of her bed, face crumpling while she tried to convey her honesty to the blonde. 

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I was there that night; we all saw you with that girl at the bar. We saw you fighting with Sydney before you left,” Leah squared her shoulders to confront Y/N, she wasn’t going to let Y/N deny her infidelity anymore. 

“I know,” Y/N couldn’t meet the blondes eye, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, “but, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Leah mocked her. 

“I know it’s cliché, but It really wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Yeah? So what was it supposed to look like? Because, what it looked like, was you fighting with your girlfriend, then getting into a car of girls, and me being left with your crying girlfriend.”

“I didn’t get in the car,” Y/N whispered, but Leah wasn’t listening. 

“That you kicked her out of your house only to show up at Arsenal. Single at that too!” 

She glared Y/N down, eyes set, and jaw clenched, waiting for Y/N to answer. Sydney had been Y/N’s girlfriend of two years, the couple living together for one. She had grown close with the blonde, the pair loving to team up to make fun of Y/N. Sydney was the liaison for the marketing company for Aston Villa. 

“I didn’t cheat, I didn’t get in the car that night,” Y/N repeated. 

She knew how that night appeared to anyone watching on. That it easily appeared like Y/N and her girlfriend gotten into a fight, leaving her at the bar to get into a car full of girls. That she left her girlfriend in another city and moved to another team to avoid dealing with the consequences of her actions. 

Leah continued to stare Y/N down, “if you want me to believe that, then what was it supposed to look like?”

Y/N let out a long sigh, scraping both hands down her face. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Leah the truth, but telling the truth also meant baring Sydney’s actions and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. 

“I found out after the game that Villa wasn’t going to extend my contract. But they wanted to do whatever they could to squeeze as much money out of me before I left. They told a few teams interested that I was getting re-signed, even though I wasn’t, so that teams would bid for the loan rights. They hoped teams would sign the loan, then get a big transfer fee next season.”

Leah softened slightly, she couldn’t imagine being regarded only as a price tag, “this doesn’t have anything to with you supposedly not cheating.”

“I told Sydney before we went out. She didn’t really understand, hell I didn’t understand it, but she was mad because she thought it meant I was asking to be loaned out. When we went to the bar to get another round, she told me she was going to move out and went back to the table before I could say anything.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed with a defeated sigh, she might as well tell the whole story. She didn’t want to potentially ruin Leah’s friendship with Sydney, but she also couldn’t risk this to continue to put strain on their professional relationship. 

“I thought that meant she didn’t want me around, so I decided to go home, let you guys enjoy the night. On the way out, there was a group of girls trying to get their friend in the backseat of the car to leave, but she was too drunk to stand, so I helped them. She got in the car, they left, and I went home.”

“But your car was still at the pub.”

“I walked; Sydney had the keys.”

Leah crossed her arms while she analyzed what Y/N told her. It was possible Y/N helped the group of girls, she always helped people around her. Y/N had hurt her wrist during the game and probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the gear shift to drive. 

Taking the older girl in, Leah could see how tired she genuinely looked. How it looked like a struggle to just keep herself sitting upright and bags under her eyes when she would briefly make eye contact. 

“She didn’t come home until the next afternoon.”

“She stayed with Jordan,” Leah snapped, she wasn’t going to let Y/N imply Sydney cheated to make herself sound better. 

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “Jordan called me that night to yell at me when Sydney showed up there upset.”

Leah smiled a bit, she knew how protective Jordan could be and could imagine the earful she would have given Y/N, “good, you deserved it.”

“Damnit Leah, I didn’t cheat, and I didn’t kick her out!”

Y/N stood abruptly from the bed, frowning. Leah dropped her arms, mouth opening in shock at the sudden shift in Y/N. 

“She broke up with me! She cheated! She told she found someone better, more attractive, that she never really found me attractive. I lived in a hotel for two weeks before Villa sent me to Arsenal like I was nothing!”

Y/N begun pacing the room. 

“I had to miss training so I could pack my bags while she was at work. She got the house and everything in it and all I have is a couple bags and a few boxes.”

Leah didn’t know any of that. Sydney had told her Y/N kicked her out of the house and she believed it. And she certainly never said anything about seeing someone else. It was starting to be clear that Leah truly didn’t know the full story, or at least, not the true story. 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” 

Y/N deflated at the question, sinking back down on the edge of the bed, “she was your friend too, I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Any anger the defender felt was gone now. Y/N had spent months protecting Sydney even though she didn’t deserve it. She had been taking the brunt of Leah’s anger without saying anything for months.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I – “

“It’s alright. It was easier to be the bad guy in her story than fight it.”

Leah made her way across the room, sitting next to Y/N, her whole body pressing into Y/N’s side. 

“It’s not alright, you took so much of my anger when you didn’t deserve any of it. You took Jordan and Rachels too.”

Leah sounded astonished when she spoke, realizing how terrible Y/N had been treated. That she tolerated everyone’s accusations and criticisms while dealing with the truth of the breakup and club loan alone. Y/N should have been angry at everyone and should have told them all the truth about her breakup.

“They figured it out when they took her for drinks,” Y/N shrugged and Leah could tell she was trying to detach herself while telling the story, “She showed up with her new girlfriend. I wasn’t even at Arsenal yet.”

Leah shook her head. She was so angry at herself now. How could she believe someone she knew two years over her best friend she had known for fifteen? She had been so blinded by her anger, she let herself be manipulated into believing her best friend would have done anything like that. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Y/N pushed herself up. 

Leah launched herself from the bed and into Y/N’s side, pinning her arms in place in a tight bear hug, “I am so, so sorry Y/N.”

“it’s alright, really.”

“It’s not!” Leah pulled away but kept her grip on Y/N’s and forced her to face her, “you went through all of that alone and you let yourself be the bad guy when you shouldn’t have.”

Y/N tried to pull away only for Leah to tighten her grip, one hand clasping the back of her neck so they are forced to meet eyes, “I cannot apologize enough for how I have been to you, but I want to make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me. I just want us to go back to being friends.”

The blonde eagerly nodded at that, letting Y/N pull away this time to settle into bed. 

Leah rushed to complete her bedtime routine before sliding into her own bed. She settles on her side to look over at Y/N facing away from her, chest rising and falling steadily, fast asleep. 

Incessant buzzing wakes Leah far too early the next morning. Y/N mutters soft swears while frantically trying to silence the device and hide the bright screen to avoid waking her roommate. 

The buzzing stops as Y/N throws a hoodie on and is leaving the room as the buzzing starts again. Leah can hear Y/N speaking in the hallway now, she tries to stay awake to make sure everything is alright but sleep quickly wins. Y/N isn’t in the room when she wakes again a few hours later. She gets ready for team breakfast and sits on her bed, waiting for Y/N to return, before rushing out the room when she realizes she’ll be late otherwise. 

Y/N is already seated at a table away from everyone when she gets downstairs. She has her knees tucked up on the edge of her chair with her chin resting on them and a coffee cup clasped in both hands against her chest. Even across the room, Leah can see how exhausted she looks. 

After making a plate, she begins to make her way towards Y/N but is stopped by a hand tugging her to a stop. Jordan shaking her head ‘no’, telling her to leave Y/N alone for the time being. Leah looks back over, debating if she should listen or not. Sighing, she settles next to the midfielder. They’re friendship just starting to be repaired. 

“She told you the truth about Sydney,” it isn’t a question. 

Leah nods slowly, unsure why it matters. 

“Did you say anything to Sydney when you found out?”

Nodding again slowly, “I texted her when Y/N went to sleep and said I was upset she hadn’t told me the truth.”

Jordan clenched her jaw and nodded too, “Sydney is pissed.”

Leah quickly pulled her phone out to see If she had missed a message, furrowing her brow when she hadn’t. 

“Not at you. She’ll take it out on Y/N.”

Her eyes quickly shot over to Y/N. Y/N’s phone was face down on the table, but she was staring intensely at it. 

“That was the phone call,” she realized. 

The midfielder nodded, already seeming to know what the morning had been like for Y/N. 

“Even though they broke up months ago, she still texts Y/N almost every day. She’s,” Jordan pauses while she considers her words, “cruel with everything she has to say.” 

“What do you mean?”

Jordan glances around the table, when she sees no one is paying attention to them she continues, “at first, she was mad Y/N wouldn’t stay her friend. Then it was that she turned Rachel and me against her. But it’s mostly attacking anything about her; her looks, her career, mocks her for being single or being upset with what happened. She’s truly ruthless.”

Leah is disgusted when she hears what someone she considered a friend was doing to Y/N. Guilt settling deep in her gut at how wrong she had been about the whole situation. Jordan can see the thoughts she once had pass across Leah’s face while she watches Y/N toss her phone back down. 

“Rach and I thought the same too. She was convincing when she told us what Y/N supposedly did, I think she believes it herself that she didn’t do anything wrong. She was confused when we didn’t understand how she had the house and a new girlfriend while Y/N was stuck in a hotel in a new city.”

“How long did she have to stay in a hotel once she got to London?”

“She’s still in a hotel,” Jordan shakes her head. She knew Y/N had been so battered down, that she didn’t think Arsenal would keep her around long enough to make a flat wroth it. 

Fortunately, there isn’t much time during the day for players to be on their phones. But during the breaks they do have, Y/N slinks away from the group to skim her few new messages. Each time she returns to the group, Leah can see her force a smile on her face, convincing everyone around she is fine. She does manage to put on a good show of being alright, but Leah can see right through the fraudulent smile and forced laughs. 

Y/N’s phone vibrates on the night stand that night while she goes through her nightly routine in the bathroom. Leah ignores the first message, only for several more to follow, glancing at the screen she sees Sydney’s name.

“Sorry, I meant to silence it,” Y/N apologizes, and she takes it off the nightstand. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the defender dismisses her, “Jordan said she’s pretty mean. I didn’t know she still messaged you, if I had, I wouldn’t have texted her last night.” 

Y/N glances at the blonde, nodding slowly, before shrugging her shoulders while she skimmed the new messages and typing out a short reply before tossing the phone onto the bed next to her. 

“Jordan only read them because she thought I was seeing someone,” Y/N gave what almost looked like a genuine smile, “my phone kept going off while we were out once. She stole it, thinking she would get some juicy messages. Once she saw what the messages were, she went through most of them.”

“I know I have no place to ask this, but can I see them?”

Leah could see her tense and bite her lip, clearly considering the question. 

“Why didn’t you ask me about what happened that night? Or trust that I would never do something like that?”

The blonde nodded, they were valid questions, questions she had been considering since the night before. 

“She was damn convincing. You weren’t you that whole night, then she came back to the table crying and you were outside with some girl draped all over you. It was all so believable, she made it believable.”

Y/N risked a small glance towards the other bed. Leah had propped herself up on an elbow, staring intently at Y/N. She couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, a mixture of pity and guilt maybe. 

“I never thought you could do something like that. And she was so convincing. I was just blinded by my anger that I let myself be fooled. I am so sorry that I let myself be tricked and ruined our friendship when I should have just asked you.”

The pity was gone, guilt settled across her face. 

Y/N wordlessly handed her phone across the space between the beds. Leah pushed herself to take the phone, settling on her back to read the messages. 

Leah read the most recent messages first, slowly working her way backwards. Reading the vile things Sydney had been sending Y/N throughout the day, Y/N offering short messages to amend her ex’s anger. 

Y/N fixed her gaze to the ceiling, unwilling to see the blondes reaction as she read the messages, unwilling to see her agree with Sydney.

The phone dropped after a minute of her reading the messages, Leah unable to finish see anymore, disgusted with the things sent. The messages all varied in length, but they all attacked Y/N in every capacity that she could. She criticized anything she could to get a reaction from Y/N. 

Leah pushed herself to hang her legs off the side of the bed. She didn’t know what to do with herself, didn’t know what emotion was the strongest right now. Part of her wanted to storm out of the hotel and confront Sydney. Part of her wanted to wrap Y/N in the tightest hug possible and mend all the broken pieces. All she could bring herself to do was sit with her head in her hands. 

“I, Y/N, fuck,” she could only stutter out, “I don’t even know what to say. Those are, she’s, those are all so fucked.”

Y/N shrugged, “is what it is.”

“it’s not! What she’s saying is so wrong and fucked up!” 

Anger overtaking as she stood up, harshly running her hand through her hair, “you need to block her!”

“I can’t,” Y/N whispered. 

Leah just looked at her, mouth opening and closing. 

“I blocked her on socials and she lost it. When I tried to block her number, she took it out on Rach and Jords, messaging them and all that. She left them alone when I unblocked her.”

She shook her head, Y/N continued to protect everyone but herself. 

“They can handle themselves; you don’t need to protect them.”

 Y/N stubbornly shook her head, refusing to accept that, “they don’t need to be part of this.” 

Leah couldn’t believe Y/N was willing to continue to handle this all on her own. She sat herself on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently placing a hand on her thigh, encouraging her make eye contact with her. 

“I don’t have it in me to fight anymore, I never really did,” Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, shoulder rounded in, “I didn’t fight the breakup, I gave her the house, I didn’t fight anything she told people. I just want to be done with it.”

Her voice trembled, tipping her head back, hoping to keep the tears from falling. 

“Looking back, I think she broke me down years ago.”

Leah’s heart ached as Y/N spoke, “I am so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I should have been there for you, I will be here for you.”

Leah eventually made her way back to her own bed, but sleep wouldn’t come, lying on her side watching Y/N tucked into herself. She couldn’t imagine how Y/N had handled the last months completely alone, while also having people viewing her as the bad guy in the story. Guilt rocked her, she was one of those people. 

Y/N’s phone remained quiet the next day and Leah could see the relief it left Y/N with. 

“You know, you and I are friends again,” Jordan spoke up when they were alone at their dinner table that night. 

Leah furrowed her brow and slowly nodded, agreeing with the statement. 

“It would be alright if anything started with the two of you,” Jordan gave her a small smile, “Gee told me how disappointed you were when Y/N started seeing Sydney a couple years ago.”

Leah blushed, anxiously running her thumb along her bottom lip, risking a glance to Y/N the table over. Jordan wasn’t wrong. She had been disappointed at the start of Y/N’s relationship. Her feeling had developed when Y/N had been such a good, supportive friend for both her and Jordan when they broke up, even before they broke up, supporting them when it became rocky. 

It hadn’t been something she had expected to happen. She didn’t even know what it was that she was feeling, only realizing her attraction when Y/N excitedly told them about her new relationship at an international camp. The distress at the announcement, she immediately understood she was attracted. 

“You would be really good for her. She needs someone to be good to her, and I think that’s you.”

“I didn’t even realize what I felt until I heard she was dating someone,” Leah felt a little defensive as she spoke. 

Jordan was quick to place a reassuring hand on Leah’s arm, “it’s alright. I know it’s all new for you. And I’m not saying you should do anything about it. Just pointing out that you would be good for.” 

Leah bashfully looked away, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it at one point, she’d also be lying if she denied it being more than once. 

“Last time I could get her to say anything about dating again, she said she swore it off because she doesn’t think she’s worth it anymore.”

The weight in her gut gets heavier the more she’s told about Y/N the last few months  

“But I think she’s just waiting for someone to prove her wrong about it all.”

Leah is amazed at how easily Y/N can move past the months she had been treated so horribly. They easily return to being friends. The guilt is still weighing on her, but it eases slightly when she sees Y/N genuinely smile at her. Her attraction surging back to the front of her mind. 

“Fuck!” 

Leah rushes out of the bathroom when she hears Y/N’s phone hitting the wall. Y/N’s pacing aggressively, harshly running her fingers through her hair.

“What’s happened?” she picks up the phone, inspecting it to ensure it isn’t broken, placing it on the dresser. 

“Arsenal cancelled my hotel room. I’m homeless when I get back to London.”

Leah jolts when Y/N kicks the bed. 

“Good thing I don’t have any stuff to worry about,” she lets out a humourless laugh, kicking the bed a few more times. 

After one last kick, Y/N crumples to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head between them as sobs wracked her body. Leah rushes to her side, pulling her tight to her chest. Y/N doesn’t fight the action but keeps herself curled into herself. 

“You weren’t supposed to find out that way.”

Y/N scrambles away. 

“Shit, that sounds bad,” the blonde stays on the floor, “Arsenal cancelled your room because you’re going to move in with me. I was going to tell you once we got in bed, I just called them after dinner, I didn’t think they would tell you so fast.” 

Y/N whirls around and stares down at the defender. Leah slowly pushes herself off the floor. 

“You need a home Y/N, I want to give that to you,”

When Y/N doesn’t say anything, Leah frantically thinks of anything to say to fix it. Y/N crashes her body into Leah and the blonde can feel the tears soaking her shirt. She’s sure she’ll have bruises on her side where Y/N is gripping into her. Managing to pull a handout to rub up and down Y/N’s back as her sobs continue. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Y/N pulls away, using the sleeve of her hoodie to try and wipe the snot smeared on the blonde’s neck. 

Leah shakes her head, batting the hand away to pull her back into her, “you don’t need to be sorry or say anything. Just come live with me. I have a spare room; I want you to come stay in It.” Once Y/N nods, Leah guides her to lay in her bed, tucking her in. 

The first week living together is awkward. If it wasn’t for the meals left for Leah and the fact that they carpool to training, she would think Y/N wasn’t staying there. Y/N is the perfect house guest, Leah’s house cleaner than when she moved in. But other than seeing her in passing, Leah hardly saw her new roommate. 

Leah grabs Y/N’s arm immediately when they walk through the door, preventing her from running away. 

“This your home now, too. You don’t need to hide in your room. Unpack, eat meals with me, shower here,” she emphasized, knowing Y/N hadn’t even showered at the flat yet, only showering at the training facility. 

Y/N shrunk under Leah’s stare. She had been doing her best to remain as out of site at possible, whatever she could to avoid upsetting the blonde, “I wanted to stay out of your way.” 

“And I want you in my way.” 

Y/N shook her head, not understanding what she meant. 

“I want you to live your life and feel comfortable.”

The next few weeks, Y/N does make an effort to leave her room more, making Leah smile. Y/N waits to eat her meals with Leah now, leaves a pair of shoes by the door, shower products along the tub edge.

“I blocked her,” she whispers between bites at breakfast, “Rach and Jordan did too.”

Leah lets her fork clatter to table as Y/N spoke. 

“I am so, so proud of you Y/N,” she grips Y/N’s wrist across the table, her smile wide as her eyes crinkle. 

Y/N just shrugs and continues to eat, but Leah keeps her hand where it is with her thumb rubbing across her wrist, picking up her fork to eat with her other hand. 

This was a sign Y/N was healing, moving past the torment her ex had been putting her through for months. Y/N was moving in the right direction. Maybe Jordan was right, maybe she was the person Y/N needed to fix all her broken pieces. 

“Have you thought of dating again?” Leah risked. She knew pursuing Y/N would require a lot of patience and understanding. 

“A little bit, but not in the way you think,” Y/N harshly bit her lip, Leah wishing she could tug it away to safety, “I’m too broken to date, I think. No one wants to be with someone this ruined.” 

Leah couldn’t imagine the pain Y/N must constantly be in to think so poorly of herself, to think that she was too damaged and undeserving of someone to be loved. 

“You are not a reflection of people who couldn’t love you properly,” Leah’s grip tightens until Y/N makes eye contact with her, “I am sorry Sydney loved you so poorly and made you think you took up space you didn’t deserve and abandoned you and hurt you so badly you think love is an awful thing.”

Worried Y/N will start bleeding if she bites any harder on her lip, Leah does use her thumb to tug it out. She can feel it tremble under the pad of her thumb as she slowly drags it across the flesh. 

Y/N runs her tongue over her lip when Leah’s thumb is gone, Leah’s steely eyes tracking the motion. She wanted to run away, worried she might do something and risk moving too fast. Leaving now though would ruin all the work she had done to regain Y/N’s trust. 

Leah continues to show Y/N what love is. Opening her car door when they leave for training. Always letting her choose the show they watch. She attempts breakfast, bacon and eggs, but they ultimately end with cereal when she burns both. She increases physical contact; sitting close enough they touch on the couch, hand grazing her back as she walks past, tucking hair behind her ears. 

Y/N adores all of it. But it makes her panic. She won’t go through all of this again. Won’t have someone show her love and care, only to rip it all away from her. 

So, she runs away. Retreats back into her room. Goes back to leaving meals for the blonde to eat, leaving before the blonde wakes up, meeting her at training. 

Leah stands outside Y/N’s room after training, so she knows Y/N’s in there. But this room has been her one safe space since moving in, the blonde doesn’t want to take that away from Y/N, doesn’t want her to feel trapped. 

Steeling herself, she knocks on the door, three quick raps. 

Y/N doesn’t look surprised when she opens the door. Just opens the door and shuffles back. Leah can see her bags packed on the floor next to the bed and the bed neatly made. 

Choosing to ignore the bags for now, Leah settles on the edge of the bed, “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really like you and I was hoping I could ease you into idea of being in a relationship again. Unpack your things, I’ll back off.”

“I liked it,” Y/N whispers, sitting next to Leah, “but, I’m not the guy that gets the girl, no happy ending.” 

“You already got the girl though,” Leah’s voice is soft as she speaks, “we can have the happy ending.”

“We can have the happy ending?’

“Not for a long time though, because we have to have a happy everything else first.”

Y/N tugs ones of Leah’s hands in her lap and rests head on her shoulder. Leah drops a gentle kiss to the top of her head.   

[billyloomiswhore4]

Crazy for you | Chapter Two

Chapter two of this fic

Billy x reader (billy x stu x reader in later chapters) 

Warnings: complicated attraction (The reader has a thing for ghostface but doesn’t know Billy and Stu are ghostface.), perverted thoughts, perverse behavior, explicit but no smut yet, but soon i promise

You walk into school, your bag secured over your shoulder. Billy, Stu, Tatum and Randy are standing by the doors of the school, waiting for you.

“Hey!” Tatum is excited to see you. “We are having a movie night tonight at Stu’s place! Do you wanna come?”

Billy’s eyes hardened, he didn’t want you to be there. Being around you was proving all the more difficult, especially when Sydney and Tatum were getting you more comfortable in yourself. They had you wearing skimpier clothes, and prancing around all confident in them. It drove him crazy and he had to hide his hard on every time you were around. And Sidney wasn’t going to be there, so he couldn’t focus solely on her to distract himself. 

“Yeah you should definitely come.” Stu says before you can answer, wrapping his arm around Tatum. You smile, your eyes crinkling in the way that tells Billy it’s forced.  

“Sure.” You say, and Randy wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you into the school. Everyone else follows. Billy presses his lips together in a fine line at the display of affection. 

It’s no secret that Randy has a thing for you. It seems you're the only person who's yet to notice the affection he shares only with you. It makes Billy’s blood boil, and he wants to rip Randy’s head off for even thinking about touching you. 

But when Billy’s fists clench, Stu sends him a look that says, ‘Not now.’

The rest of the school day comes and goes and before you know it, you’re sitting in Stu’s living room,  Billy sits next to you, but he seems tense. Maybe even upset about something. Stu and Tate are in the kitchen arguing over how long to cook the popcorn. Stu is insisting they put it in for a little longer than the recommended time, but Tatum disagrees saying they should put it in for a shorter amount of time.

Randy was talking but it seems that Billy isn’t paying attention, which is unusual considering how he usually pays extra attention to detail. Randy gets up to go to the bathroom and you use that opportunity to try and talk to Billy.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask softly, and to him it’s like the voice of an angel speaking to him before they take him to heaven. He doesn’t necessarily believe in heaven, but you make him want to believe. He smiles but it doesn’t last long, which you take notice of considering he hasn’t smiled much since his parents split.  

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little tired.” Billy was always sweet to you, even if you weren’t that close. Though recently he’s been spending a lot more time around you. You would have thought it was weird if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve been spending time with Stu, so by default you kind of have to hang out with him. 

When you first moved to Woodsburough, he thought you were going to ruin his plan. Everything he’d spent months figuring out with Stu. But he soon realized you were a little dumb, well not in school wise, but when it came to people. You wouldn’t be able to recognize a killer even if he was holding a knife to your throat. Not to mention you are incredibly naive, he could spin a single lie to you and you would believe him, no matter how outlandish it was. 

He found it rather cute, even if you sadly weren’t the average ‘final girl’ but it didn’t matter because he would ensure that he had you in every way possible. 

Before you could ask him if he was sure, Stu and Tatum walk back into the living room. Billy is sitting next to you at the far end of the couch. And Stu sits at the other end, and Tatum sits down in his lap. 

The movie goes rather smoothly, Randy returns from the bathroom and Stu goes to get the popcorn. Everyone sits down and watches the movie. 

“Stu.” Billy calls for Stu’s attention over the loud volume of the movie. 

“Yeah?” Stu’s eyes never leave the TV. 

“Do you have any more beer in the garage?” 

“I think so, but grab me one while you're back there.” 

“Me too!” You, Randy and Tatum say at the same time. 

“Why don’t you help him, Y/n,” Stu says, eyes meeting yours. 

The thought of being all alone in the garage with you drives Billy crazy with inappropriate thoughts. And he sends Stu a glare, Stu knows Billy can hardly control himself around you. So why is he sending you both to the garage together? Stu sends Billy a look, and Billy nods in his direction. 

You stand, and so does Billy. You walk to the garage and Billy follows. He watches as you bend down to grab the beers out of the fridge. Your ass presses against your shorts, they barely fit you and are far too short for his liking. 

It makes his mind wander to all the things he could do to you. He could come up behind you, and you would turn around to face him. You would gasp, feeling his hard on pressing against your stomach. He would take you, right then and there, in every way possible. 

“Billy?” He almost groans at the sound of your innocent voice saying his name. “Hello, earth to Billy?” 

That pulls him out of his fantasy. You’re standing in front of the fridge, holding several beers in your arms and it looks like you’re struggling to carry them all. 

“Can you help me?” You laugh and heat spreads on through his body at the sound of your voice. 

He moves towards you, grabbing the beers and setting them on the counter. “What are you-” You begin but are interrupted by Billy grabbing your waist and wrapping his arms around you. He rests his head in your neck, and you could have sworn he was smelling you. “Billy.” You attempt to push him away, worried about what Sydney would think if she saw the two of you like this. 

“What are you doing?” You sound so uncomfortable, it makes his dick twitch in his pants. He likes having you like this, uncomfortable but unable to do anything about it, unable to do anything against him. He loves being stronger than you, able to do whatever he pleases to you.

You attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he grabs your wrists, and pins them behind your back. You wonder if this behavior is because of how many beers he's had. Maybe he just mistook you for Sidney. You think of every possible reason for him to be acting this way. 

“Billy.” You whine in pain at the angle he has your arms. He groans at your whine of his name, and his dick twitches again. 

He suddenly remembers the plan, and how he could have potentially ruined everything just by behaving that way. He pulls himself off of you, and he’s panting. He got himself all worked up. You just stare at him, eyes wide and confused. 

“I- I’m sorry.” He pants out, realizing how he could have just fucked everything up. “I don't - don’t know what came over me.” He quickly turns and basically runs out of the garage. You stand there confused for a moment, before running after him to tell him it's okay. But when you come out of the garage, everyone is staring at you. 

“What happened?” Tatum speaks and Stu stands behind her.  

“I don’t know.” you say. “Did he leave?” You ask, kind of sad that you couldn’t tell him you forgave him. 

“Yeah he just ran out of the house, yelling that he was walking home.” Stu says. 

You sigh quietly. “Tate, can you give me a ride home?”

“Yeah of course.” 

______

chapter three?

tag list: @comfortcharactercraze @sage4marvel @nicciekawegosblog @nothingbutcloud @imobsessedreader @adaydreamaway08 @buzzybee-26

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Now with love come strange currencies...

And here is my appeal

I have a theory that since it's been confirmed that Mikey would have R.E.M. around the studio somewhere, Carmy would listen to "Strange Currencies" while he was crushing on Claire in high school.

The main song of season 2 plays during Claire and Carmy's reunion, leading viewers to believe that this song is dedicated to Claire. While it was originally intended to be about her, that connection has changed. Now, as Carmy catches up with Claire, the song no longer carries any emotional ties to her.

because he met Sydney.

Who is the person he is always trying to figure out as @freedelusionshere shared.

There are no questions or deep explorations of Claire's feelings; we, as viewers, do not know her. However, with Carmy, we're trying to understand Sydney better.

Can we discuss what "now with love, comes strange currencies" means? It suggests that a peculiar exchange occurs when this singer expresses his deep desire to share his feelings with his crush.

Carmy began to act unusual with Sydney when he allowed Claire back into his life, but he behaves completely normally around Claire. He has no issue showing up late to the restaurant to work on the walls, even after telling Sydney that he couldn't come in that day. While he keeps his distance from her, he spends all night making drawings of their menu, even while Claire was there during his panic attack.

He's strange, as Richie and Tiffany agreed. Carmy, known to get angry, expresses his love in peculiar but considerate ways.

The last time we heard the song, Carmy's behavior was extremely strange.

He stares like he doesn't know he made the plate he dedicated to Sydney, like the song; it reflects his desires to know Sydney.

Sydney encounters Carmy's peculiar behavior, where he seems to want to express a lot but ends up saying nothing. The scene that follows the song could easily be linked to a dedication for Claire, but I think it actually reflects Carmy’s ongoing struggle to confront his feelings for Sydney that makes him go to the walk in and call Claire. Wanting to close the door on things.

Lastly, the strongest proof that Carmy is trying so hard to connect with the lyrics and make the song about Claire is evident during the panic attack scene. The song plays in reverse and doesn't progress until he thinks about Sydney. It is only when he hears her voice and feels his breath calming down that we are left with the words, "You will be mine."

I thought about this obsessively again thanks to @freedelusionshere .

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The C person is not even worth the trouble for him

Unlike Syd

So are we now finally ready to address the fact that when Carmen Berzatto REALLY LOVES SOMEONE and that person hurts him or disappoints him, he either lashes out walk-in style

OR cuts them off, puts distance between them, he doesn’t really fight back.

(Michael-Donna-his father whom he never tried to find or reconnect with, I’m sure there are more ppl we don’t even know about).

BUT

when he really loves someone and HE is the one who disappoints or hurts the other person or fucks up bad, he tries to make it up in the best way HE CONSIDERS fair (Syd, Sugar, Pete, Richie)

The good news is:

The C person doesn’t fall in either category because HE fucked up and HE didn’t try to make it up to her in any way, shape, or form, he cut her off.

SO

That can only mean 3 things coming from him:

1- He doesn’t love her therefore he doesn’t feel is necessary to make it up to her, even though he feels guilty about the whole thing, she’s not enough of a priority for him, hence: he doesn’t even bother in repairing that relationship, even though he’s fully aware HE fucked up.

OR

2- He doesn’t even feel he fucked up at all, he actually deep down thinks he did the right thing, he’s only PARTIALLY sorry about the whole thing, he’s absolutely NOT sorry about what he did, said, chose, etc. He’s ONLY sorry about C getting hurt as a result, but then again, since she’s NOT that much of a priority to him and he does have more important things to do like getting a star for Syd to make it up to her for having failed her repeatedly and having left her alone, etc, which ARE indeed his priorities, then he just keeps putting the whole apology to C in the back burner and kinda hopes it eventually dilutes in time… like a “I’ll deny it till it goes away bc she moved on and what’s the point of apologizing now anyway…” kinda thing.

OR

3- A combination of both <— my pick.

He will have to grow at some point and understand it just doesn’t work like this. That he can’t keep on cutting people out of his life because he’ll wind up alone. That he can’t be his own judge and choose his own sentence when he commits a crime and that nothing he just buries deep down inside, actually goes away just because he chooses not to address it.

And I think that the lesson this fucker taught him:

by breaking him and making him realize that he’s actually better than his abuser. (Carmy is a better person than that asshole even as fucked as he is) Is actually one of the tools he needed to turn this whole thing around and reach that level of maturity he’s lacking and therefore make a real change after he overcomes this crisis he’s going through.

I already addressed his immaturity here:

The other tool is that Sydney keeps believing in him. He cannot lose that, not totally, he has to continue counting on her for motivation, she’s the heart of his whole support system.

And Syd needs her own support system too, which in her case is now expanding. It’s no longer just her father. Everything she can't let go of is now her support system, her found family. They are bound already, whether she likes it or not.

So I’m sure they will be OK. I’m just sorry that trauma is the way Storer chose to go about it. There were easier ways.

But since the whole plot is based on their real lives, as I mentioned here, trauma it is.

S4 is gonna be glorious!

Carmy has already reached the breaking point this season:

but S4 is gonna be THE TURNING POINT.

[museofthepyre]

CAMP HERE & THERE SWAP! AU!!!

EVERYONE GATHER ROUND I NEED TO INFODUMP. This is going to be a long post, bear with me.

In this AU (constructed alongside the lovely @cecilsrandomeverything) is a protag/ antag swap AU, wherein Sydney and Elijah swap narrative roles, and so do Jedidiah and Adam. The rest of the cast are just swapped with their obvious counterparts (Joshua/ Yvonne, Rowan/ Juniper, Fennell/ Soren, etc)… though, there is also the less obvious swapping of Warren/ Matthew, and Lucille/ the Gravediggeress.

Titles:

Elijah, "The Angel"

Sydney, "The Miracle"/ "the Black Cat Man"

Adam, "The Vivisector"

Jedidiah, "The Horologist"

Ms. Graves, "The Sentinel"

And Lucille, "The Puppeteeress"

General Plot:

Everything pre-limn is almost exactly the same. Jedidiah and Sydney live their messy little lives, until Sydney starts wilting— Jedidiah delves into dangerous unknowable ‘magic’ in attempts to save him, but it’s not working. It’s only making him worse, and his time is running out. In a desperate Hail Mary effort, Jedidiah kills and resurrects Sydney… successfully*.

Sydney wakes up in hospital, having emerged from a long coma. The first thing he sees is a figure standing over him, haloed by the bright white lights of a hospital ceiling. Sydney saw an angel… tending to him with caring and dutiful hands, guiding him back to the realm of the living. He could feel a bruise-like ache throughout his body from where death itself had gripped him. He… had died. He knew he died, and that’s all he was certain of in that moment. He’d kissed heavens gates, and still retracted his lips from the cold metal… It left the taste of copper in his mouth. But now, somehow… he was alive again. He was alive enough to look up, all milky-eyed and dreary, at the angel who awoke him. He who preformed a miracle… divinity caged within a human vessel. Sydney felt he owed this angel a debt… he knew it would only be a matter of time before his body began to fail again. A good long life was just never in the cards for him. As he stayed in hospital, barely conscious or coherent, he came to believe that his saviour would only suffer the same fate. The body is a prison, its betrayal is inevitable and indiscriminate… even the most beautiful and holy creatures are not exempt. The body is a curse, and so, Sydney knew what he had to do with his new fleeting life.

Jedidiah must have messed up the ritual. Sydney came back, yes, but he came back wrong. So, so terribly wrong… he still… looked… dead. He was clueless to his situation, all spacey and confused… his memories were scrambled and blurry, and Jedidiah saw no spark of recognition when their eyes met. Seemingly, like a newborn fawn, Sydney had imprinted onto the first thing he saw (Elijah, who in this AU is a normal nurse). Jedidiah couldn’t accept this ending. He left Sydney there in the hospital, entrusting his care to the nurses while he isolated himself to research. He threw himself deeper and deeper down the rabbithole of forbidden magic, until he was in so deep that he could no longer see the sky above. He became lost within the unknowable… he let it consume him. He’d let it transform him. Whatever the Conductor was: some spector of the astral plane, visiting dreams to share unknowable knowledge with those who sometimes recognize his form… that’s what Jedidiah became. Jedidiah A A Martin is missing, with no body to be found. His childhood room (which he had been staying in during all this) was found in-tact, showing no sign that Jedidiah had packed up to leave. On his desk were journals filled with unintelligible writing, which slowly devolved into frantic scribbles with each passing page. Soon after… Sydney went missing too! What odd timing… he seems to have up and vanished from his hospital bed at the same time that two nurses left the job.

Elijah and Adam, who’d been college roommates a few years prior— with Elijah studying nursing, and Adam studying psychiatry. They were friends in all respects… which Elijah found himself feeling lucky for. He’d always struggled to keep friends, so when someone as sociable and charming as Adam took an interest in him… he felt indebted to the kindness. Elijah (as he does in normal CHNT) struggles with mental health… he really clung to Adam, and Adam was just as eager to be there! There to listen to him vent, help him stay grounded to reality, offer up advice, and to ask questions… lots of questions. So so many questions. After a few years, Elijah found himself feeling like Adam’s personal case study rather than a friend. As if the most interesting thing he could offer was a mind so profoundly broken that it was a spectacle to observe- something to be poked and prodded at, to see how it’ll react… but that’s impossible, Adam was his friend! He’d confided so much in this person, how could he not be? Adam told him not to seek therapy elsewhere, since Adam would help him for free! And, yknow, you can trust him, he has a psych degree. When the stress of working in hospital got to be too much for Elijah, and he began to think about staying with family for a bit… Adam was quick to provide an alternative. Adam was a social guy with many strange and unusual connections, and he just so happened to have the perfect suggestion! A much less stressful nursing position, at a summer camp run by a “Ms. Graves”, whom he raved about with high regards. They could go together! Take a little break, get away from it all… and so they did.

At Time of Series:

Adam and Elijah are co-nurses at Camp Here & There, or well… Adam is more of an assistant nurse at this point. He seems utterly distracted by Elijah’s condition, poking and prodding his way into the man’s head with words like cold, sterile medical tools. Pinning him down to an inescapable sort of “friendship”, even though their relationship feels like nothing more than an artificially preserved husk. Adam is still always nice, but Elijah can never tell if it’s genuine or not. He misses when their conversations felt warm, he misses when he felt like a friend rather than a case study… or a paranoid asshole for doubting Adam’s sincerity. He puts on a cheerful face for the kids, and while some find him to be a bit *too* cheerful, they can tell he really does care. He’s well-spoken and delivers the morning announcements with a theatrical flare! Sometimes he’s a little too eager to share his feelings, but he does mean well. The kids really like him overall, they think he’s nice!

Adam is like an illusive celebrity around the camp, he’ll show up and be very energetic and engaged for a short period of time, winning the favour of all the kids with his fun fun chaos-enabling… and then he’ll disappear! Back to his office, leaving Elijah to clean up the mess he made. Nobody knows what he’s up to in that office. Last time Elijah got a peek, he saw the walls COVERED in framed pinned insects and taxidermy… and stacks of notebooks, the ones he’s always scribbling into after speaking with Elijah. Adam seems to know a lot more than he’s letting on.

Jedidiah is missing. It’s actually his college that made report of this, after he ghosted all his classes and no professors could reach him. Nobody could track down his mother either, and his father… his father had already passed. Elijah sees someone in his dreams sometimes, a dishevelled man wearing a lab coat and too many watches. His presence is accompanied by cacophonous rhythmic ticking, like multiple clocks all overlapping at different paces. He tells Elijah things he can’t know… he speaks like a frantic and incoherent madman, it’s all so bizarre. And yet, Elijah can’t help but think he looks oddly familiar.

Then there’s Sydney, who… just up and vanished from his hospital bed. Who knows where that guy is. Although there has been a mysterious figure spotted lurking around the campgrounds… draped in layers of tattered black fabric, covered in moss and mushrooms, and wearing a strange black cat mask. They’ve been caught leaving random things outside of Elijah’s bedroom in the nurses cabin… little shiny rocks, bones, pinecones… one time an entire fairy ring grew around the cabin overnight. Nobody knows what he wants, but it’s been reported that those who see him are overcome with an overwhelming existential awe… dread and wonder in equal amounts, makes you want to sob your eyes out for the universality of pain, and dance for the love of the sunlight. The only exception to this is Elijah, who upon seeing the ‘Black Cat Man’, feels a strange sense of obligation— of care and concern, for a reason he can’t pinpoint. His guard lowers and all sense of danger melts away… he feels compelled to care for this stranger, like he would a patient. A patient who can do him no harm, still and quiet in their hospital bed. Of course, the questions and red flags all come back once the Black Cat Man is out of sight... but which reality is he to trust?

Running the camp is Ms. Graves, a mysterious lady who is rarely seen or heard from. She only seems to communicate through written letters or using Adam as a proxy. She’s just a busy lady… she really is lovely to her staff!

There are also rumours floating around regarding the crawling fields beyond camp. A desolate span of colourless grasslands infested by bugs of all sorts, wherein the fabled “puppeteeress” dwells. Nobody has ever seen her, but they have seen those handsome wooden mannequins she enchants to do her bidding! They show up on the outskirts of camp quite often… their eyes may look inanimate, but you can still feel them watching!

Ok ramble over for now. I may be back with character doodles later. Also if you’ve read a suspiciously similar fic on AO3 with this exact setup, but it’s the au’s version of “the ceremony”… yes that is me :3 hello :3

[katelynnwrites]

She Was Sunshine (I Was Midnight Rain) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: angst with an a!

word count: 1592

summary: sydney is sunshine and you are midnight rain, you broke her heart cause she was nice

a/n: fairly different from my usual kind of writing but i tried, part two can be found here

Sydney Lohmann is sunshine personified. She is the walking definition of sunlight on the clearest of days.

Anyone who has ever met her will tell you that and everyone who has known her since she was a child will tell you that she always has been.

You are incredibly lucky to be one of the latter.

Moving from England to Germany was tough, especially since you were only ten. Your parents’ had divorced and your German mother had chosen to move back to her hometown in Upper Bavaria, taking you with her and in doing so, away from the country of your birth.

You didn’t speak German and definitely did not fit in at school because of it.

Everything was new and hard on you.

You were struggling and your lifesaver comes in the form of a blonde with messy pigtails.

You’ll always remember Syd kicking a ball over to you as you sat on a bench bordering the playground.

She gestures at you to join in, walking over to you and dragging you with her when you shake your head shyly, absolutely refusing to take your no for an answer.

You didn’t know how to play but Sydney tells you that all you have to do is pass the ball whenever you get it to her. She confidently told you that she would do the rest.

And she did, putting all the other children to shame, even the older boys by scoring goal after goal.

It became a regular thing and her bright smile as she celebrated them with you became the thing you most looked forward to each and every school day.

Sydney was your sunshine then and she still is now.

Over the years, you did learn how to play football and by sixteen, you have joined the youth department of Bayern Munich with Syd and more importantly, shared intimate kisses with her.

******

Being the blonde’s girlfriend is a joy.

There is no other way to describe how happy she makes you. From the tentative first kiss you had with her at fifteen to where you are now, playing for Bayern’s senior team together, you have been hers and she yours.

You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you started to want something more.

Munich is your girlfriend’s home. Her family is there, along with pretty much everyone she has ever known her whole life.

It makes perfect sense that Sydney bleeds Bayern.

Even at nineteen, she has made it clear that she intends on playing for the Bavarian club for as long as they would let her.

You don’t feel the same way.

Bayern Munich might be the club you play for now but as hard as you try to shut it away, part of you wants to go back to England.

You want to play for an English club in an English league. You want to speak the language you grew up speaking even though you have already nearly lost your accent.

But you don’t know how to tell your girlfriend that.

Not when she is so obviously ease at Bayern and so in love with you.

Four years of dating her and you have never felt so afraid to tell her something. The very last thing you want to do is to make her feel like she isn’t enough for you.

You only play football because of Syd. You’re only as good as you are because of her. Sydney is your world so how do you tell someone that important that your dreams are not the same as hers?

It is anything but simple and too difficult to think about when you don’t even know if it will be possible.

So you keep pushing it aside until you can’t any longer.

Chelsea makes an offer for you. One that is too good to resist.

And then it becomes inevitable that you have to talk to your girlfriend.

Right off the bat you know that this will be the hardest thing you have ever done.

You are nearly in tears when you sit Sydney down, trying your best to explain to her why you’re going to sign for Chelsea.

The blonde doesn’t understand, cannot understand why you are doing this. She goes through a whole range of emotions, shock, hurt, sadness, fear and finally anger.

It is with anger in mind when she tells you that if you leave for England, you and her are over.

She knows she is not being fair but she says it anyway.

Her bottom lip trembles and her hazel eyes are welling with tears as she struggles to pull herself together.

All her effort is in vain when after a beat of agonising silence, you whisper, ‘I guess this is goodbye then. I love you sonnenschein, I’m sorry we’re ending this way.’

Your former girlfriend flinches and the raw pain in her expression will haunt you for the rest of your life.

It certainly is at the forefront of your thoughts the entire time you pack up your things.

It is the only thing on your mind as you board the plane.

You keep hoping that the blonde will appear, text, call, hell even email to just say something. You’ll take anything over the silence she has given you ever since you sat across the table from her.

But all your hoping is pointless and you leave Germany with a broken heart.

You guess that Sydney wanted it comfortable and you wanted pain. You can’t fault her staying at Bayern because after all, it is her home.

It just isn’t yours.

******

Pain is what you get when you land in England.

London is not as you remember it to be, through the perspective of a child.

Nine years is a long time to be away and you have to adapt all over again.

It is an enormous challenge, practically a whole new country, an unfamiliar style of play and strangers for teammates.

You do however have a steely determination to make it work. You may be all of nineteen years old but you refuse to have lost your sunshine for nothing.

While Sydney continues to make her name in Munich, you make yours in London, chasing that fame you have only ever heard about.

******

You spent three seasons with the Blues, winning the WSL three times in a row. Your club even wins the domestic treble in your second season.

In those three years, you do what you moved clubs and countries for. You do everything you can to prove yourself and it pays off.

By the time you leave Chelsea, you’re well known as an up and coming young star.

Enough so that Barcelona is among the list of clubs who have shown interest in you.

With the Spanish club, your career only soars.

You win the Champions’ League the very first season you are there.

It is a promising start and you think you made the right decision in joining them.

******

Sydney stays the same.

Despite your own growing fame, you keep tabs on the blonde.

Bayern Munich is good to her and you watch with pride as she goes on to become a regular player for Germany.

It was with overwhelming guilt that you sat in the stands the day of her senior debut.

You’d once promised her that you would make your senior debuts for Germany together.

‘A pinky promise means forever.’ Syd had murmured when you linked your little finger with hers.

‘I know.’ You whispered and smiled.

But things changed when you left Munich.

Shortly into your time in London, you made the decision to represent England at the senior international level instead of Germany.

While you had been active in the German youth teams, you decided not to continue playing for them and commit to the country of your birth instead.

Sydney never reaches out to you, even when the media publishes it.

You will however, never forget the look on your ex’s face when England beats Germany in the Euro finals. It is one of complete and utter betrayal.

You broke the blonde’s heart cause she was nice and all of you changed like midnight.

Forever as it turns out, is not to be.

******

Sydney guesses that sometimes everyone gets what they want.

She gets to stay at home and play where she is comfortable. Bayern Munich is everything to her and she wears her heart on her sleeve everytime she puts on their jersey.

You get to make your own name and your career takes you places. The German woman knows you had to have suffered and put yourself through a certain amount of pain in order to have become this successful.

She admires you for that.

Syd tries her hardest not to think of you but how can she not?

Especially when you are on the television.

She can’t help but admire the way you play now. Your style of play has come a long way from the school playground.

English football and Spanish football has made it’s mark and you no longer play in an entirely German fashion.

Sydney is some kind of haunted by you. As a teenager she once dreamt of marrying you and she wonders what could have been had she not been so quick to push you away.

What if she had been brave enough to try making a long distance relationship work?

If only the blonde knew that you thought of her too. At midnight and all other times.

She isn’t the only one that’s haunted.

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[undead-moth]

The more I think about how The Bear went from being a show that was making a purposeful commentary on how gentrification happens and the harm it does to being a show that arguably glorifies gentrification and even embodies gentrification with more and more big-name celebrities cameoing unnecessarily in the show and with the real-life restaurant that inspired The Beef now being a tourist destination -

The more I'm actually hoping for an ending with The Bear failing. I honestly think that it would make more sense narratively and be more meaningful if The Bear failed. I would like to see Sydney become disillusioned from the dream of getting a star and realize that Michelin stars are at best an empty status symbol and at worst a literal scam. I would like to see Richie realize that serving the rich is not the kind of purpose he wants to have, and that he would much rather find purpose in serving the very community he defended in season 1, the low-income, working class people that frequented The Beef. And I would like Carmy to realize that the high-end restaurant culture that caused him so much trauma is not going to fulfill him, and that running a restaurant isn't about how high-end it is. I would like him to realize that running a restaurant really is about the magic of cooking, nurturing others, and accepting imperfection - all ideas that are largely incompatible with high-end restaurant culture.

I would like to see The Bear as a high-end restaurant fail, and instead, see all of them decide that not only is running an average, low-end and little-known restaurant more sustainable and more profitable - but that it actually means more to them, and is more fulfilling to them, and what they really want to do. I think this ending would say exactly what this show needs to say, and what it in many ways was trying to say in the beginning of the show.

But I don't think that's the ending we're getting. I don't think we're getting an ending that returns the show to its initial commentary on the harms of gentrification at all. There are multiple people involved in the making of this show that not only own and run high-end restaurants but have literally contributed to gentrification and become millionaires as a result. I think whatever inspired them to comment on it at all in the beginning was either a matter of Storer getting an elephant in the room out of the way, or a matter of different writers having worked on The Bear in the first season, writers who are no longer working on it now.

It's really unfortunate, honestly, but not really surprising. Given how difficult it is to get a show produced without the contributors being either significantly wealthy, well-known, or both, shows that are genuinely critical of capitalism and its many symptoms are pretty much nonexistent.